


Gem In The Rubble

by MuchBuffy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 07:46:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6146524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuchBuffy/pseuds/MuchBuffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Where am I? Why am I here? Who am I? The last one she had an answer for at least. She was Buffy Summers – slayer. Now there's just the issue of where and why.”  Buffy wakes up in a strange place that ends up taking her on an emotional journey.</p><p>A short story that veers off canon from 7x20 Touched, starting with a forward flash from 7x22 Chosen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gem In The Rubble

_Buffy was still looking out at the crater previously known as Sunnydale. Everyone else had gone back to the bus when Willow walked up to Buffy and stood next to her. “You ready to go?”_

“ _Yeah.”_

_They stood in silence for several moments, then Buffy turned her eyes towards Willow and spoke. “Why did you bring me there, to that place?”_

“ _I don't know.” She answered, returning Buffy's gaze with a sad smile. “This new magic – the magic that's a part of me – I'm not completely in control of it. It works off my emotions and intuition most of the time. My best guess is that I brought you there cause I knew you'd help me when I was ready.”_

***

She was laying on the forest bed. It was soft, warm, damp from morning dew. The sun was shining softly from it's newly risen position, still very low, rays spilling through mist between the trees. Leaves rustling afar from a breeze, but from where she laid the air felt completely still.

It felt surreal, _wonderful_. Sparkling colors almost too vivid and bright, forcing her to squint as she became slightly more aware. But she didn't question where she was, or why she was there. For a while she merely existed in the tranquility of the moment. The smell of forest, and something almost metallic. Then there were sounds. The sleepy sounds of nature waking up, some distant birds singing a soothing melody, possibly a brook nearby. Even though there was a myriad of different sounds, they were all very quiet. So quiet the sound that caught her attention was that of her own slow breaths.

She was still somewhere between sleep and wake, somewhere very pleasant and safe. When suddenly she was rattled by the sound of a very sharp _crack_. As if someone, or _something_ , had stepped on a large branch.

She sat up abruptly, assaulted by her surroundings, leaving the tranquil state so far behind it might as well have been another life time. Her eyes snapped open painfully wide, watching birds evacuate nearby trees as the crack echoed through the forest. She threw her head around in all directions trying to make sense of the situation, and locate the sound that had startled her into awareness.

Her heart hammered as she was caught by the sight of herself and looked down. Dark red, nearly black, liquid patterns and pools were weighing down a dress she wore. A dress that was long, layered, and tan – _Beautiful_ , if it hadn't been so dirty and torn. She reached down and touched the dark liquid gingerly with a shaking hand. Blood. She was covered in blood.

Hurriedly she felt her body for wounds, breath hitching, getting both hands bloodstained. As her touch didn't seem to hurt anywhere, she quickly ruled out the blood being her own and scrambled to her feet. As she stood the pools created vertical streaks down her dress. She looked around again, slower this time. Her previously serene and colorful setting had lost it's luster. Now it seemed eerie in the pale morning sun and mist.

Then she was flooded with questions. _Where am I? Why am I here? Who am I?_ The last one she had an answer for at least. She was Buffy Summers – s _layer_. Now there's just the issue of where and why.

There was another crack, much softer this time, further away. Her vision snapped in it's direction, and before she could think she took off running. Any other person would have ran in the opposite direction, but for reasons unknown even to herself, she ran towards it. Her instincts were screaming so loud it made her skin feel tight – she had to follow the sound. As if she'd forgotten why, but it felt important. Very important. So important she didn't have time to question it.

She ran barefoot with precision, jumping from fallen trees and rocks, whirling by tree trunks and bushes. Her senses feeling sharp after the abrupt awakening. Her bloodied dress was slapping her legs, and branches hit her arms and face like whips as she kept leaping forward.

She was running away from the sunrise, and the forest kept growing denser, _darker_ , the further she ran. Her surroundings that was previously painted in greens and gold, was now becoming shades of blue as more darkness fell around her.

Then in the distance she caught sight of it, what she was running towards – it was a man, limping forward desperately trying to push between the dense and tall forest. But the next second she lost sight of him as the forest grew even thicker. She couldn't keep the same speed as before, but she tried, going as fast as she could between the trees, pushing aside shrubbery, scraping her arms on bark and thorny branches. Her vision was too busy trying to seek out the man between the trees to bother working her way through the terrain in a manner that would avoid scrapes and bruises.

Then he appeared again. "Wait!" she yelled, then stopped and covered her mouth with a bloodied hand, realizing that might not have been the best idea. Meanwhile more birds flew from the tree tops from her echoing word.

He stopped, but didn't turn. He was still far away and Buffy couldn't see who, or _what_ , he was. She warily continued towards him through the fog, panting as all the running caught up with her. For the first time since she started running she was doubting her decision to follow him, and with that came more questions. What would she do when she caught up to him? Why the hell hadn't she looked for a makeshift weapon before taking off?

But the more distance she closed, the more familiar his features grew. Hair painted silver by the blue light was what made her sure – it was Spike.

He was standing in a small clearing, shaking and tense, heaving with each breath. She could hear him breathing heavily through his nose from this distance, as if he was angry. Then she saw the blood. So much blood was running down his side from a large wound in his back through a ripped white shirt.

“Spike.” She said between pants as she closed the distance and stopped in front of him. His face was wet from tears, and a vast array of emotions flickered across his face as he looked at her. His breathing slowed but caught, features going softer with each passing second.

“What happened?” She said frowning and bewildered, reaching out to touch him. But as she did he crashed to his knees, holding her bloodied legs possessively with a sob. “Buffy. Oh god, Buffy. I thought I'd lost you.”

She felt confused but humbled by his emotional outburst, and tears stung behind her own eyes as he clung to her, sobbing, repeating her name. She opened her mouth to say _something_ , to _ask_ something, _anything_. But she was overwhelmed, speechless. All she could do was lay a hand on his silvery head, and watch it tint red with blood as the fog continued rolling by.

***

Several moments passed before Spike slackened his hold and looked up at her. “Buffy, we really need to get out of here before the sun rises.” Then he proceeded to pull himself up with Buffy's help.

“Okay, but where is _here_ exactly?”

He frowned, studying her face. “You don't remember anything about this place?”

That struck some panic in her. “I guess not. What the hell's happening? Where are we?” She said, not loving how much fear her words were laced with.

“Christ, she really did a number on you didn't she.”

“She? She who?” Sounding less fearful, but desperate instead – which wasn't much better.

Spike growled in frustration and grabbed her shoulders. “We can play 20 questions all you like, pet. But can we do it _after_ we get inside? Or I'll be a big pile of dust any minute now.” He nodded in the direction they'd been running. “There's a cabin just ahead, we need to get there in one piece then I'll fill you in on all the soddin' details you want.

Buffy nodded jerkily, then put an arm around Spike's waist to support him, trying not to touch his gaping wound. He leaned into her grip as they started limping forward together.

Spike puffed out a sigh and angled his head closer. “You're alright, that's all that matters.” He murmured into her hair.

***

They made it to the cabin just as the sun peaked up above the tall trees. It was a very small log cabin. One room and a sleeping loft, low ceiling, a bunch of smaller windows, some of them covered to keep out sunlight. The room had a sofa, but was otherwise filled with smaller pieces of old wooden furniture, littered with knickknacks and books. It looked lived in.

“How-how long have we been here?”

“Around a week. It's hard to tell, time seems to move faster here.” He stumbled in and threw himself on the sofa with a grunt.

“Oh.” She managed to get out as she stood frozen in the middle of the floor, shocked and confused, blood dripping from her dress.

Spike gestured at the ladder to the sleeping loft, looking very pained from his injuries. “We have a box with medical supplies up there, could you fetch it?”

“Yeah-yes. I can do that.” Nodding, relieved to have something to do.

She climbed the ladder with a slight tremble. Peaking up at the loft she saw a larger mattress on the floor, with two pillows and a couple of white sheets in bunches – obviously slept in. It looked cozy, comfortable, _familiar._

She climbed up all the way and laid a hand on the mattress with a soft sigh, relaxing for the first time since she woke in the forest.

Then an all too vivid memory came to her.

***

It was very early, or very late. The night was at it's darkness peak, only the moonlight spilling into the cabin – which provided more light than expected once your eyes adjusted. They were naked, covered only by a thin white sheet. But it wasn't cold, oh no, very much the opposite.

Spike was spooned up behind her, nuzzled into the crook of her neck. His hand trailing her body with such exquisite care that it made her tremble and squirm against him involuntarily. The hand dipped between her thighs, running his fingers in circles _there_. And as mewls and whimpers started spilling from her lips, she felt his arousal twitch in response, pressing himself hard against her with a shaky breath.

“I want you.” He murmured, placing hungry kisses along her shoulder blade and neck. She felt delirious as he reached her ear, overwhelming her with heavy breaths that tickled her skin sweetly between licks and nibbles. But then he pulled his hand away, and she was left whimpering in disapproval.

As she was about to reach back for him and demand _more,_ his touch reappeared. This time she felt his length being positioned behind her, sliding along her slick folds, teasing her in a way that can only be described as evil. “You're so _warm_.” He said, barely a whisper. But the words were filled with such worship and awe she wanted to turn around and claim his lips, push him down, and ride him until his eyes rolled back and was chanting her name over and over. But her thought process came to a screeching halt as he began pushing himself into her.

She didn't moan. She didn't make a sound. Her eyes fell shut, and her hands clutched the sheets as if they were a lifeline.

***

She was jerked out of her memory and fell forward onto the mattress, panting. She could still _feel_ him inside her, and it flushed her body with heat from remembered ecstasy. A moan escaped her as she pulled herself off the mattress, almost drooling.

“Buffy? You okay up there?” He sounded worried, or annoyed. It was hard to tell which sometimes.

“What? Yes! I'm-I'm fine! I just... I'm _fine_.” She scrunched up her face, realizing how stupid that just sounded. She was light years away from fine. She'd momentarily lost the memory of sleeping with a man she had very confusing feelings for. Feelings she hadn't yet defined, feelings she wasn't _ready_ to define.

“Well can you hurry up being fine? I'm bleedin' out down here!”

 _Oh right. Injured, annoyed – and annoying – vampire downstairs._ She saw a metallic box beside her, grabbed it and made her way down the ladder.

She was blushing profusely when she walked over to him, unable to make eye contact. She tried to tell herself she was being stupid, that they'd slept together plenty of times in the past, said and done things to each other in the heat of the moment that should make her blush heaps more than this new memory – which was extremely innocent in comparison.

But this time was different, she knew it. _He has a soul now._ And suddenly Door #2 – the option of having deeper feeling for him – was swinging wide open. They'd always had a connection, an understanding. He'd sometimes known her better than she knew herself, which made this that much more complicated – that much more _real_.

She did her very best to shake the thought for now. There was bigger problems, _questions_.

She crouched down on the floor next to him and opened the medical kit, pulling out bandages.

“Gonna take forever to get all this blood cleaned up.” His gaze following the tracks they'd left on the floor, ladder and sofa. Then settled on her dress that was splayed out around her.

She ignored his casual remark and pulled up the side of his shirt to get a better look at the wound. He hissed as she touched it. “Sorry.” She said, looking apologetic. The wound was piercing him all the way through his abdomen, front to back.

She grabbed a cloth from the side table and started removing some of the blood around it, then she mustered up enough courage to look at him. “Tell me why we're here, and where _here_ is, also who's _she_?”

Spike scoffed out a laugh at the amount of questions, then his face grew all too serious. “It's Willow. We're not sure what set her off, but she's gone dark again. The last thing we remember before ending up here was,”

“Falling asleep in your arms.” Buffy finished. Their eyes meeting as he paused.

“Yeah, falling asleep, holding you. In that abandoned house.” He studied her face for another moment before a sharp intake of air, trying to collect himself. “Something must have happened to her that night, we don't know what, but she's all hopped up on the magic and whatnot.”

“Where is she? Last time she went dark the world almost went up in flames. In the very _literal_ sense.”

“She's on the other side of the forest, where we came from.”

Buffy shot him a look that clearly said 'Go on.'

“She leaves us alone as long as we don't come to her side. But last night you wanted to seek her out, tell her that there was still hope for her – that you believed in her.” Then he let out a frustrated sigh, “And I came along. Not just because you're a stubborn lil' bitch that won't listen to reason,” He paused as Buffy rolled her eyes, then continued in a much softer voice. “But because you have a way of bringing that out in people. Make us feel like we're not a lost cause.” He looked down, vulnerability in his eyes.

“Did she do this to you?” She said, her eyes on his injuries.

He let out another laugh. “You can say that. But mostly it was you.”

“What?!” Buffy got so shocked she accidentally pushed the cloth into the wound.

He hissed and cursed. “Fuck! Slayer, you inflicted it already, do you have to poke at it like I'm some bloody entrails pinata too?” He said through gritted teeth.

Buffys vision went blurry as her eyes filled with tears.

“No, Buffy! Fuck, I didn't mean – _please_ don't cry. I'm fine alright? Look, no dust or anything!”

“I-I did this?”

Suddenly dizzy, she felt another memory rushing back.

***

They were back in the forest.

"Willow I know there's still humanity in you, you can fight this!" Buffy said in desperation, trying to reach her friend.

"Humanity huh? None of us have very much of that do we? Spike is basically a human shaped _animal_ , I'm more magic than anything else at this point, and you..." She paused, giving Buffy a knowing look before continuing. "We both know you're not as human as you like to think, how powerful _The Slayer_ actually is."

The air went electric with her words.

Buffy froze, fear stricken eyes as she could feel Willow's magic working it's way through her body. Her usual underlying instincts to fight evil bubbled and grew into a relentless blood lust. For the first time she was able to pinpoint the raw, undiluted, _Slayer_ in her. And it was making her feel absolutely _amazing_.

"Give in to it." Willow said in an almost demonic tone, both Buffy and Willow's eyes turning black from the effects of the spell.

She became aware of the blood pumping in her veins, surging adrenaline into her limbs. Her heartbeat steady and strong, like war drums ordering her to submit to her primal slayer needs. Her need to hunt, to kill.  _No_ , not just kill –  _The savage_ _need to rip her pray to shreds._ Making it pay for all her suffering, for forcing her to be so much less human than she wanted. Making her feel like the goddamn babysitter of the world.

Buffy turned her black eyes towards Spike with an absolutely wicked grin. And with complete certainty she _knew_.

_I'm gonna tare him apart._

Spike started backing up. “Buffy, listen to me. Whatever she's doing to you it isn't real.”

But she was already in motion. She threw herself at him, growling. Spike tried to grab her as she scratched and beat him, not wanting to hit back. He threw her off him, she flew and landed rolling on the ground until she hit a tree.

Willow was laughing in the background as Buffy stood slowly. Chest heaving, determined, _furious_.

She was boiling with anger and hate. Hate at the world for needing her so damn much, anger at herself for ever caring, anger at Willow for raising her from the dead – taking her gift and _stomping_ on it. And now she was angry at Spike for not fighting back.

And he was gonna pay for it, he was gonna pay for _all_ of it.

She ran towards him with a war cry, picking up a branch off the forest floor, aiming it at his heart as she flew through the air the last few steps.

The very last second before the branch connected Spike managed to push it down, impaling his stomach instead of his heart. His cry of pain meeting her war cry as they fell to the ground. Buffy over him, holding the branch firmly in place.

Then Willow snapped her finger and Buffy felt _drained_ , suddenly overcome with tiredness, eyelids impossibly heavy. She rolled off him and landed on her back.

The last thing the she remembered before drifting off was Spike hovering over her, shaking her. Lips moving but she couldn't make out any words.

***

Coming out the memory she scrambled backwards, grabbing at her throat and chest as if the she could claw out the anger.

“Buffy- _BUFFY!_ ” He said stricken with panic.

She stared up at him, wide eyed, parted lips and out of breath. “I-I remember doing that to you, it just came to me. It was... _intense_.”

He calmed noticeably. “Bloody hell. You scared me, Slayer. I thought she was pulling your puppet strings again.”

Buffy sat up, smoothing out the fabric over her chest, frowning. “That's the thing, she didn't really control me. She made me connect with a part of myself that I usually just push aside. But it still felt like _me_.” Buffy looked down in shame. “I guess I have more anger in me than I thought.” A rueful smile flickered across her face.

“I'm sorry.” Spike said, making her look up.

“ _You're_ sorry? I almost just _killed_ you, _I_ should be-”

“After she put you to sleep she told me to run, and if I didn't she'd kill us both, starting with you. So, I ran. Just... leaving you there.”

Buffy shook her head. “What else were you supposed to do? Stand around and wait for either Willow or the sun to dust you?” She placed her hand on his leg, meeting his worried gaze with a loving one. “You did the right thing, Spike.”

Spike puffed out a breath, corners of his mouth twitching upwards. Then he put his hand on hers, squeezing it, watched the blood covered fingers brush.

“Also, she's wrong.” Buffy said, pulling them out of their moment.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Me? You? All three of us, we're _full_ of humanity. Everyone feels anger and pain, we all want to give in to violence or dark urges at some point. But humanity is what gives us morals, _compassion_. It's what stops us from hurting others, even when we want to.” She paused, stroking his fingers. “It's what makes us _choose_ to be better. And right now Willow's in pain, but she spared both of us. Which means I actually _do_ believe in her. It also means we're going back.”

He looked at her in amazement. “You're absolutely nuts, you know that?”

Buffy shrugged, smiling. “Humans. We're a strange bunch.”

***

After they were done patching Spike up he'd passed out. Either from pain, exhaustion, or blood loss – possibly all three. So she just sat there watching him, waiting. He was ghostly white, almost glowing, in the poorly lit cabin.

She should probably be cleaning up blood, or try to find some clothes and get changed while she waited. But it all seemed so unimportant. She knew it would be over soon, one way other another. So she just watched him as his chest rose and fell slowly.

After a long while she crawled up off the floor and curled up next to him on the sofa, closed her eyes and let sleep take her over. _Just for a little while._ She thought as she drifted off.

***

She awoke to a cursing and muttering Spike. She forced her eyes open and stretched lazily. Spike wasn't next to her anymore, and it was dark now, a single candle was lit on the side table.

Then there was more irritated muttering.

“Spike? You ok?”

“Good morning, sunshine.” He said after a moment, peaking his head out from the loft, then threw a dress in her direction before continuing. “Almost cracked my head open on this soddin' low ceiling is all.”

As he climbed down Buffy took him in. He still looked pretty beaten and tired, but a lot better than earlier. Less pale, change of clothes.

“How long was I asleep?”

“I don't know, reckon I dozed off a lot sooner than you. I woke up about an hour ago, went out, had myself a snack.”

“A snack? You went hunting?”

“Actually _we_ went hunting, earlier yesterday. There's a deer outback if you want something to eat before we head off.” He said, gesturing to the back of the cabin.

“Hunting.” She said with a frown. “I can't really imagine myself killing an animal. I mean I kill monsters on the daily, and well, I _eat_ animals but, I-I don't know it feels weird.” Making her wonder what other strange things she doesn't remember.

He chuckled. “Well there isn't much else to eat around here, is there? Now get changed, love.” Spike said as he left the cabin to give her some privacy.

The door slammed shut rattling the cabin, and Buffy was left staring at the dress in her lap. It was soft, cotton, off white with a faded floral print. It seemed so old. She changed quickly and tried to get most of the blood stains off her skin before she stepped out into the surprisingly warm night air.

Spike was standing ahead looking at the sky. The stars and moon so bright it cast shadows off him and the nearby trees. The image before her suddenly burst the dam of memories. They all came flooding back, not as assaulting as the previous ones, more like they took their correct place in the past.

She remembered waking up here, confused. She remembered feelings and thoughts awakening in her from long conversations, she remembered watching northern lights dancing in the night sky as they dove into a nearby lake, laughing, playing, kissing.

There was hunting, sparring, bickering, anger, joy. All these little puzzle pieces trickled in, filling the blanks.

This place had felt like an extension of their night together back in Sunnydale. A vacation, like they'd hit snooze on life. And even though there were more pressing matters, even though they'd have to deal with Willow, Caleb, avert the apocalypse – _go back to life –_ eventually. Their stay in this strange forest had felt very important. Healing.

She walked over to Spike and stopped next to him, still staring at the sky. “Time to go home.” She said.

“Or die.”

She stared daggers at him before rolling her eyes, but he just gave her a warm smile. After a moment her features softened and she mirrored it.

She reached out and took his hand, intertwining their fingers, then they walking off into the night.

***

They walked for long time before reaching the place they'd encountered Willow last – where she'd nearly killed Spike just a few hours ago.

He was walking a couple of steps behind her, she could hear him kicking rocks and branches every so often. She stopped without warning and Spike bumped into her. “Hey! Watch... it.” He started, words losing it's edge as he looked up, eyes going wide – just as Buffy's were.

There were lights ahead. Hundreds, maybe thousands of what looked like fireflies illuminated the forest. Floating around like candles, giving the landscape a golden tint.

Suddenly she took off running, making Spike throw his head heavenwards, tensing in frustration before taking off after her, limping as fast as he could without taring his wound open again.

As Buffy sprinted by the lights parted to make room for her. Then a slope appeared, making her stop so abruptly she left track marks in the dirt, air rushing up behind her with such speed it nearly knocked her forward. Below the slope was a larger clearing, Willow was there wearing all black tinted brown by the light. She looked concentrated, lost in thought, as she stood in the middle of a swirling pattern of small stones, laid out very neatly in the soft moss.

Then Spike stumbled up behind her. “Buffy! Slow down, you don't know if she's-”

“Spike, _shut up_.” Buffy said, making Willow look up at them.

There was so much pain in her eyes. “Do you like the lights? Tara taught me how to make them. She taught me so much, my Tara.” She looked around her, admiring the lights with an expression that flickered between awe and hurt.

“Willow,” Buffy said softly, but Willow didn't let her continue.

“We built this whole place. This is where,” She paused, collecting herself. “This is were we used to go in our minds – our shared spiritual haven where our souls would blend whenever we... When we made love.” Her lip quivered. “And that night, my first night with someone else, I went here out of pure habit. I went here, and I took _Kennedy_ with me. I took _someone else_ into mine and _Tara's_ world – built just for us.” A single tear ran down her cheek.

“ _I tainted it._ ” She continued, words dripping with resentment.

“Willow, it doesn't work like that. No matter what you do with someone else, _nothing_ can take away what you and Tara had.”

Thoughts of Angel was starting to fill her mind, making her speak as much to herself as Willow when she continued. “Everything ends, usually badly. But we can't live in the past. We can't put our feelings on hold and stop looking for happiness somewhere else.” She threw a glans at Spike. His head was tilted, staring at her in amazement and understanding, eyes so intense she had to switch her focus back to Willow. “Maybe you're not ready to love yet, maybe there's no future with Kennedy – who knows. But you let her in, and that's a _good_ thing.”

Tears were streaming down Willow's cheeks, her composure starting to falter. “But why did I have to bring her _here?_ ” She fell to her knees, walls crumbling as Buffy ran up to her. “ _Why?_ Why here?” She rocked back and forth in Buffy's arms, trembling as she wept for several long moments before their world faded to black.

***

She woke up back in Sunnydale, on the strangers bed where she'd fallen asleep the night before it all started. Spike was laying beside her still asleep, arm around her waist. She was gonna wake him up – any minute now. Go back to the house and make sure Willow was okay, make sure Spike was okay, _go save the world_. Really, she should be waking him up.

But she didn't.

She didn't want to. Cause as she laid there in his embrace she realized what he meant to her, what role in her life he'd so unexpectedly filled after all these years. Like spotting a gem in the rubble of an earthquake, she'd found something she wasn't even looking for in the strangest place.

_I lov-_

She wasn't ready to say it, not even think it. But now she knew.

And some day she'd tell him.  
  


 

The End.

 


End file.
